


Not Enough Time for Oversight

by Nicole Crucial (moilArchitect)



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Dersecest - Freeform, F/M, Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-08
Updated: 2012-05-08
Packaged: 2017-11-05 00:52:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/400088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moilArchitect/pseuds/Nicole%20Crucial
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Your name is Rose Lalonde or Dave Strider, you are beyond the point of denial that you are hopelessly in love with your ectosibling, you are not nearly as disturbed as you should be, and your heart (if you ever had one, you think) is breaking from promises never spoken that will never come true.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Enough Time for Oversight

**Author's Note:**

> Edited for clarity and POV issues.

 

DAVE: no what a load of shit  
DAVE: stuff said between you and me before we knew we were related  
DAVE: we both know that was a lot of horseplay bullfuckery between like smartass 10 year olds or whatever  
DAVE: you cant seriously have taken any of that seriously

You know very well that he is right, and that childish half-crushes a world away mean nothing now, but you feel a not-entirely-unexpected twinge of pain when he points it out and feel a need to correct him that it definitely was _not_ that long ago. No, it doesn't matter; he's _rightrightright_ for once; and that's the part that hurts. It doesn't matter because now you're "siblings," or a gross impersonation of such with none of the familial ties and only half the biology.

It doesn't matter because you are too late and now there is taboo, a looming wall thicker and taller than even your densest, blockiest paragraphs, and _oh_ , could you spend _hours_ breaking it apart brick by brick with logic and devil-may-care, but the _thought_ would still be there. If Freud gave it his best, how could you ever hope to set fire to these ancient statutes?

It doesn't matter, because if there was anything to have happened between you, it had to be then, back when ignorance would've been a viable excuse. But you made the mistake of believing you had all the time in the world. Or maybe that was his mistake, and yours was just oversight.

Thirteen is a little young to fall in love; a lot young, actually; but forever is a long time to miss something you never had. You know this, and it stings, so you wink to hide it and to punish the both of you for even thinking these thoughts that No Human Being should ever rightfully have.

\--------------------

ROSE: ;)

She breaks out this thing so far out from left field it must've scored a touchdown for the other team, and spontaneous wicked fuckery is how you always know you've hit a nerve she refuses to expose. You start in on bullshit to match and wish she had called your bluff.

But it's too late and you know it so damn well it burns like the roiling pits of LOHAC, except this isn't the kind of burn that feels like home. She could call in Freud till she was blue as John's god pajamas and it still wouldn't be any excuse. John and Jade could drop off the edge of existence (though Skaia forbid anything as fucking shitty as that should happen), and you two could be the literal last two humans in the universe(s) and it still wouldn't be an excuse.

You are programmed, like a robot, like a computer, your infrastructure screams _nonono_ even though your brain can stage logical protests in the form of the sickest beats left in the world. God damn it, your "parents" didn't even bang to make this shit marginally worth it. (Well, they may have, that's Bro's business, you guess, but there was no banging that resulted in you.)

It seems now that your aspect is a huge ironic joke, which you could appreciate in any context but this (it's not fucking funny), because no matter how many loops you close you're always running out of time, and no matter how far back you want to go, you can't fix this mistake you (both) made. The mistake of being a massive fucking pussy, that is, a kid too cool to take the jump when you should have, back when you could feel the clock ticking but did nothing about it, back when there was no taboo etched in invisible ink across your skin.

\--------------------

The worst part is not even that this situation exists, though that is a very shitty immutable fact that must be stated for the record. The worst part is that no matter how taboo it feels, no matter how aggressively either of your insides scream _no,_ no matter how fucking off his _rocker_ Freud must've been to come up with those bullshit theories, and no matter how many walls you will have to pick apart to make excuses for yourself, you know that you will find a way.

You will find a way to stop caring. Not enough to ever justify anything you can feel yourself itching to do; no, that would be far, far too easy, wouldn't it? You will stop caring just enough to condemn yourself, and you will revel, respectively, in the black lipstick smeared off your lips and the way your shades are dropped daintily and devastatingly to the floor every. single. time.

Poor, poor fools. You are out of time and have already seen, you do not have the luxury of hope for the future.

But that's alright.

It's been a long time since you had any hope, anyway.


End file.
